


Heroes of the Lost

by AngelTitan114



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Jesse has a crush on Hanzo and all his brothers and sisters, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Magik - Freeform, Prince!Hanzo, Unrequited Love, fantasy!au, kings - Freeform, prince!genji, prince!lucio, princess!dva, princess!tracer, super cool weapons, taking back the throne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8712754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelTitan114/pseuds/AngelTitan114
Summary: Thirteen years ago, the country of Asavalla was peaceful. No conflict had arisen since the Great Cataclysm, and no one expected any to.Not until the Hero King's closest ally murdered him and took the throne for himself, naming himself the Reaper King.Now, the Hero King's children have sworn revenge for their father and their country. But it is going to take an army to retake the throne from a man they had once treated like family...And Hanzo, heir to the Asavallite throne, knows just where to find one.[Fantasy!Overwatch]





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY GOD, I DIDN'T KNOW THIS WOULD BE SO HARD TO WRITE.
> 
> So, welcome to my mothef**ker of an Overwatch fanfic, which turned out to be much MUCH bigger than I originally anticipated. It's packed full of angst, sibling bonding, reunions, romance and magik (yes, magik), so please, sit back and enjoy as our royal kiddos take on the world with nothing but a pissed off healer, a softy of a titan and badass knight who doesn't know what personal space is!
> 
> NOTES:  
> \- Characters have adjusted names to be more fantasy-esque, so please refer to the bottom notes for a full list of names of characters that appear as chapters continue!  
> \- Most families in this universe aren't made up of blood relatives but more makeshift families with varying backgrounds  
> \- The three kingdoms are Asavalla, Anduril and Aphilea, Asavalla being where the majority of the story takes place (has four territories within: Northern Barrens, Eastern Boureals, Southern Dunes and Western Highlands)  
> \- The Higher is pretty much deity Asavallite's believe in, like their god  
> \- If you have any questions about this complicated au, feel free to drop a comment or hit me up on my tumblr, ultrontitan114

A man with a dragon tattoo upon his shoulder, his face cloaked, stepped over the dusty red hill and came within sight of the capital of the Southern Dunes. The sun bore down upon the cratered halidom of Apritho, the holiest city in all of Asavalla. No being dared raise a hand against Apritho, not even the malevolent Reaper King himself with his wicked ways, for fear of repercussions upon one’s spirit. Defiling the Higher meant diminishing your soul into one of the damned and being smited for your wrongdoings.

The man did not believe these manipulating stories the Higher Senses had contrived long ago; where was the Higher when the man’s father was murdered in cold blood and his family exiled from the only home they had ever known?

His chestnut eyes narrowed, surveying the city below him. The city center was the only district in view: the remainder of the personal residences and markets were set deep into the stone of the surrounding crater walls, giving him the impression of a disarrayed honeycomb.

The temples of the Higher, on the other hand, were raised above the city by the Higher Senses’ constant expulsion of magik, providing an illusion of floating clay monuments.

“It seems far less... _grand_ since the last time we were here,” the man’s sister, Lena, stated with a disappointed tone, her hands on his hips as she looked out over the city beneath them. “You’ve been here the most times, Hanzo; was it always like this?”

The man, Hanzo, paused. He had travelled to Apritho three times in his past; first for his own Sacrament, and twice for his younger siblings’. Yet, Lena’s previous statement was right. Apritho seemed like some oasis when Hanzo was much younger. Now, he almost resented that a place he had once been fond of was nothing more than lies and power mongers.

“You’re right, Lee,” Lena’s twin, Lucio, agreed with their sister, coming up on her other side. He peered over the edge as well, nodding to affirm himself. “Looks like a dark sandy hole now.”

“You sure those Higher Senses will do my Sacrament?” Hanzo’s youngest sibling, Hana, questioned her brother. The young woman took up a place to Hanzo’s other side, brushing the rust-coloured dirt from her thick leather boots. “My magik took a damn long time to show up, so who knows if the Sacrament is even valid now. Besides, we aren’t exactly royalty anymore, y’know. They might think we’re trespassing on holy ground.”

“They _will_ perform it, Hanexeth,” Hanzo spoke for the first time as he pulled down the hood of his cloak, addressing his sister with her formal name as he always did with his siblings. His tone voiced determination, and his strong glance down to his sister only affirmed his resolve. Hana gave her brother a gladdened half-smile, nodding in return for his words.

“My lord, may I suggest something?”

Hanzo looked back behind him, the siblings’ companions watching their back. Reinhardt, the massive former royal knight of Asavalla that hailed from the Northern Barrens, kept his eyes on the horizon, ready for any threats that may come for the royal siblings. He had been forced to swap out his titanic armour some time ago to accommodate the heat of the Southern Dunes, but that did not stop him from taking along his war hammer, Last Word, in order to protect his lieges. His daughter Angela floated at his side, speaking quietly with her father as her magik kept her afloat. She was a skilled mage, specializing in healing, and had also taken on Hana as her student when Hanzo’s sister expressed a keen interest in honing her magik even further once her Sacrament was performed.

The one who had spoken was Fareeha, the self-proclaimed one-woman Royal Guard of the remaining true royal Asavallite family. She carried herself with immense pride and dignity, having been a knight in training when the usurp and death of the former Ruler Paramount forced her to choose a side. It was likely the death of her mother and Captain of the Royal Guard that lead to her swearing fealty to Hanzo instead of the Reaper King.

“What is it, Fareeha?” Hanzo asked as he turned to the woman, his siblings still exchanging their thoughts on the holiest city in Asavalla. “Your expression tells me that you don’t like this.”

Throughout the journey to Apritho, Fareeha had felt very out of place among the sand, even if her mother was born and raised in the deep south. Perhaps that was the reason for her current discomfort, but Hanzo sensed it was something else entirely.

The knight took a step closer to her liege, eyes flickering between his siblings behind him. “My lord, I do not mean to speak out of turn, but…” her eyes focused on him again, “might I implore you to allow myself alone to escort Lady Hana to the Higher Senses? I worry about what will happen to you if you enter Apritho’s temples.”

Hanzo did not speak for a moment, holding Fareeha’s indifferent expression with one of his own. “Do you fear those loyal to the Reaper King will recognize me and try to kill me?”

Fareeha clenched her jaw tightly. “No, my lord,” she said simply. “I fear the Higher may reprimand your past actions and deem you one of the damned.”

Hanzo suddenly scoffed, then scowled at the loyal to a fault knight. “If that is what you worry about, then I must tell you this: I have been present at all my siblings’ Sacraments. It is a tradition among the royal family that any siblings older than the one having the Sacrament done are to participate, in order to strengthen familial and fellowship bonds. It is an act of loyalty to your family. I will not allow my past sins to stop me from seeing my youngest sister’s rite of passage today, Fareeha, and if the Higher thinks this should be my last day among the living for that, then so be it.”

Fareeha paused for a good few seconds before slowly nodding, saying, “Of course, my lord. Forgive me.”

Hanzo curtly nodded his forgiveness, thinking on her explanation for her worry. His transgression of close to a decade ago would very well make him a damned soul, and if the stories of the Higher were true, he would be smote the moment he stepped into the Aprithan temples.

“Hanzo, how do y’suppose we get down there?” Lena called, having pulled out her curved twin daggers to create a magik railing to hold onto as she looked further over the edge. The daggers had a striking likeliness to long immaculate feathers and were one of the two gifts the former Divine King of Anduril had given their father at the International Accords following the Great Cataclysm over thirty years ago. The other gift being had been the twin curved blades sheathed on Lucio’s back over his roaring tiger tattoo (Hanzo’s little brother had shed his top because of the heat and tied it around his head for even the slightest bit of shade from the blazing sun).

“Think we should just jump and see what happens?” daredevil Lucio challenged his twin with a devilish smile. Lena snickered and nodded, the two giggling as if they weren’t four years from being thirty.

“There’s gotta be some sort of tunnel, you idiots,” Hana shot back at her older siblings as Hanzo turned back to them.

“There is no tunnel,” Hanzo told them, earning a groan from Hana and simultaneous whoops of excitement from the twins. “But,” he smirked at his brother and sisters, this time earning him three looks of horror, “there _is_ a staircase.”

Hanzo swore that the residents of Apritho far below could hear the bellows of protest against the idea of stairs, accompanied by his bark of laughter in response.

 

***

 

They stood before the cavernous entrance to the main temple of the Higher a time later.

Hanzo had donned his hood once more to shroud his once well-known identity as heir apparent to the Asavallite throne, and hadn’t broken a sweat on the trek down the winding stairs that had led into Apritho’s depths, a feat he was able to perform because of years of training and disciplining his body. His siblings, on the other hand, did not fair so well.

Lena and Lucio were both leaning on each other for support once they had reached the temple entrance, faces flushed from the combination of heat and exercise. Hana’s still delicate body had almost caused her to pass out about halfway down, and Reinhardt gladly took up the task of carrying the girl the rest of the way. Him and Fareeha had also completed the trek without so much as a pant, and Angela had merely floated her way down, berating Hana for not attempting to do the same.

The darkness before the group loomed heavily, and Hanzo’s gaze flit around the depths of it to find any signs of life. He knew full well that the Higher Senses preferred to remain elusive in their lair until sought out, but it would have been nice for even a single acolyte to greet them.

“Let’s go,” he finally stated and took a confident step into the darkness.

Once inside, they found dim lanterns littering the high walls of the main corridor, even more small candles illuminating the tributary hallways. Lena and Lucio ran ahead of Hanzo to read as much of the ancient lettering along the walls as they could, and Reinhardt (still holding Hana on his shoulder) and Angela flanked Hanzo with Fareeha keeping an eyes on their backs.

“Prince Hanzo Xe Linhano Morell Zhael.”

Hanzo stopped dead in his tracks, far more than just surprised to hear his full formal name, something he had not been addressed by in close to thirteen years. Reinhardt and Angela both tensed at their liege’s side and Hanzo could hear Fareeha unsheath her daunting greatsword from behind him. Lena and Lucio both froze ahead of their brother, but quickly scrambled back to him when they saw no immediate danger.

Focusing on the emptiness in front of him, Hanzo pulled Stormcry, his bow, from his back and effortlessly notched an arrow. “That is not a name I have gone by in many a year,” Hanzo called back to the voice that had resonated from further down the corridor. “Who are you to know it?”

A figure finally stepped into the light, revealing themselves to be a tall woman, skin olive and smooth in the shadows, clad in deep golden and white robes, a string of what looked like tongues at her hip and an intricate headdress that accentuated her smoldering facial features. Her lips were pierced with gold and the area around her fierce eyes was painted a shimmering honey colour.

“Those in tune with the divine Higher know all that enter the Aprithan Temples,” the priestess explained, striding purposefully across the room towards them, eyes bearing into Hanzo. “Especially those as exalted as yourself, Your Highness.”

“ _Hanzo_ will do,” he countered, the way she said ‘Your Highness’ not sitting well with him. It sounded… _wrong._ He stopped being heir apparent thirteen years ago. He was just a man trying to keep his family safe now.

The woman smirked knowingly at his declaration and inclined her head in understanding. “I am the Voice of the Higher, but you may call me Satya, _Hanzo_.”

 _That doesn’t sound right either,_ Hanzo mulled internally as he scowled at the holy woman, but rehooked his bow over his shoulder and chest. “If you know who I am, then I presume you know who my companions are, and what we are here for?”

“Of course, of course,” Satya nodded, her eyes now flickering to each of the others. “The middle siblings, Princess Kalene Zavaria and Prince Luciuxano Morell Zhael, and your protectors, Lord Reinhardt Toramornd, his daughter Lady Anellahuild Svilhilde, and Fariihamal, the last of the Hero King’s Royal Guard and daughter of the renowned Anakazuka.” A sickening smile spread over her lips, making Hanzo even more nauseous that she knew everyone of their official and formal names. “And our guest of honour on this rare occasion, Princess Hanexeth Morell Zhael.” The priestess inclined her head deeply to Hanzo’s sister. “Well met, my lady. Today is a wondrous day for your Sacrament to take place, as the Higher Above has deemed it.”

Hana nodded uncertainly in return, glancing to Hanzo. He kept her gaze for a few moments, trying to instill confidence into his sister, before looking back to the Higher Voice. “And the other Senses? Where are they?”

“Impatient, are we?” Satya noted with her golden eyes flashing in the fire-light. Hanzo’s own dark eyes narrowed in response, but he made no move to object. Of course he was in a hurry; assassins could be on them at any moment if they were recognized, or worse, someone would report to the Reaper King about them still being alive and he would come himself to finish off the children of his predecessor. Or torture them by killing each of them one by one with Trinity, the sword the Reaper King had taken from the Hero King as a trophy.

He hated being out in the open for that reason alone. Thinking of what the tyrant would do to his siblings if he ever caught them alive haunted his every moment, waking or not.

“They await the princess in the Great Shrine Hall, where we shall perform the Sacrament, without ceremony if that is what you wish,” Satya finally disclosed, and Hanzo could see that she had noticed the turmoil behind his eyes. “Though,” her gaze now fell upon the non-royals, who went rigid and grips on their weapons tensing, “only the princess’s family may be present. Sworn blood of the vassal are the only ones who can assist in the Sacrament.”

“At ease, Reinhardt,” Hanzo commanded the knight as he curled an arm tighter around Hana and hefted the Last Word over his shoulder in intimidation. “Hana won’t be in any danger.” Turning back to the golden priestess, he then said, “But you will allow my siblings and I our weapons, will you not? Just as a precaution, of course.”

Satya sighed but nodded nonetheless. “I am bound by my duty to the Ruler Paramount, and any previous, and their family to ensure their full potential is always unlocked. It helps forge the leadership qualities they will require later in life.” Her heavy gaze locked with Hanzo’s. “I do, however, find it interesting that you still believe such qualities are relevant to you and your brother and sisters. Though you refuse to be acknowledged as a prince, you still wish for the divine right bestowed upon your sister? ”

“I will not bar my family from their birthright, no matter who believes themselves to be Ruler Paramount,” Hanzo growled in return, angry that anyone would even question his reasoning. Hana’s skill was unparalleled for someone who had just begun showing signs of her magik, and the Sacrament was the royal rite of passage into cultivating that magik and finding one’s spiritual corporeal form. For Hanzo, his magik had come in the form of two great navy dragons, symbolizing his position as heir apparent. Lena and Lucio had both manifested fierce tigers, Lena’s orange like fire and Lucio’s deep yellow like the sun. Today, it was Hana’s turn to receive her spiritual manifestation that symbolized her royal status.

“Then please, follow me so we may begin,” Satya insisted lightly, bowing shallowly before wheeling around and motioning for the group to follow. “Ah, and remember only the royal family may enter the Great Shrine Hall.”

Hanzo heard Reinhardt growl something under his breath, reluctantly letting Hana down from his shoulder. “My lord, I do not like this,” the enormous knight voiced, both hands now grasping his hammer. “We do not know what will happen if we leave you alone with those deranged monks.”

“Have respect, Toramornd!” Fareeha hissed, glaring up at the giant of a man. Though she said that, it did not stop her from continuing to hold fast with her greatsword in hand.

“Who knows what that bastard of a king has done to this holy place!” Reinhardt continued, ignoring his fellow knight. “He _did_ know that Lady Hana had not had her Sacrament done before he took the throne. He could have anticipated this, and those people in there could be assassins posing as the Higher Senses. Perhaps this is not a fantastic idea, Lord Hanzo.”

“I usually don’t agree with him, but my father had a point, Hanzo,” Angela now added, her worry breaking her concentration enough to force her to stand upon the ground and not above it. “That woman may say she knows all our true identities because of her connection to the Higher, but it could also be that she was told as such by the Reaper King.”

“Did either of you not hear a thing I just told that priestess?” Hanzo interjected, ending his father’s once most loyal knight and his daughter’s onslaught of doubt with a sharp look.

“‘Sides, if they try anything, we can take ‘em!” Lena stated confidently, grinning as she twisted her daggers between her fingers with expert skill.

“They ain’t any match for us!” Lucio added, unsheathing his own blades and slicing the air with the most complicated moves he had. Both twins ended up laughing triumphantly when they struck identical poses.

Reinhardt and Angela gaped at the two, and Hanzo knew it they hardly believed they could take care of themselves without their protectors constantly at their sides. “I can protect us,” Hanzo finally stated, rolling his eyes at his brother and sister’s ridiculous antics, Hana having joined them with an imaginary weapon, the three crying varying mantras. “If all else fails and they are not the holy people they claim to be, I will have no problem using my magik against them fullforce.”

After a few more convincing statements later and having to actually order the three to keep watch on the entrances to the temple, Hanzo herded his siblings in the direction Satya had disappeared to.

They finally reached the arched opening into the Great Shrine Hall, sure enough, Satya stood on the other side at the head of a circle of beings. Hanzo had no doubt the other four present were the other Higher Senses: the Touch, the Hearing, the Smell and the Sight. They each wore different coloured robes, though all sported a string of the organ that matched their Sense, disturbingly enough.

A single purposeful crack in the molding far above them shone a bright ray of light upon the center of the Higher Senses’ circle, where deep red indents of magik glowed under the sunlight. Hanzo remembered this scene vividly from his own Sacrament close to twenty-five years prior.

“Enter, child of the divine ambassador for the Higher Above,” the five voices boomed once Hanzo and his siblings came into sight. Hana, who suddenly looked deathly nervous, grabbed her eldest brother’s arm out of sudden reluctance.

“Hanzo, what’s the Sacrament like?” the girl whispered, glancing up at her brother with eyes deep with worry. Hanzo smiled gently, hoping to calm the nineteen year old.

“Worry not, Hanexeth,” the much older man reassured Hana, swiping her auburn hair back from her face. With a wink, he added, “If you concentrate very hard and think of a cool animal, that will probably be what your magik manifests as.”

Hana snorted at that and punched Hanzo’s arm, instantly reverting back to her gremlin self. “That would explain why you got _two_ badass dragons instead of one, you cheater,” she accused him with a giggle before heading into the vast room behind Lena and Lucio.

Hanzo’s smile fell, and he stepped into the room after his family.

He, Lena and Lucio took their places around the circle, completing it with the five priests. By muscle memory alone, Hanzo turned his arms so fingers brushed his inner elbows and he bowed his head deeply, eyes closed. It would take a considerable amount of magikal energy to call out Hana’s spirit into the physical plane and give it a form. Luckily for Hana, she had eight conductors to assist her as she herself concentrated on harnessing her magik. Lena and Lucio had also had each other (their Sacraments performed simultaneously) to amplify their magik off of.

People said the heir apparent would always be the eldest child of the royal family, and not only because their magik almost always manifested into a draconic form, but also because of the lack of support they would have during the Sacrament. Hanzo’s father had done it with only the five priests present, and Hanzo himself had done the same, exceeding his father by producing dual dragons in place of one.

“Reveal thy name, divine vassal,” one of the Senses spoke, their voice deeper and contrasting Satya’s to reveal it was masculine.

Hanzo heard Hana breathe deeply, likely remembering the words hanzo had told her to recite. “Princess Hanexeth Morell Zhael, final daughter of the eighth Ruler Paramount, Jaxim Xander Morell.”

“State thy intent, divine vassal,” the next Sense spoke softly this time.

“To humbly ask the Higher Above to grant my spirit a form so I may have truth of my birth.”

“Share thy hope, divine vassal.”

“My future and the future of those I hold dear will benefit from the strength the Higher Above may grant me.”

“Allude thy deepest turmoil, divine vassal.”

Hana’s sharp intake of breath revealed she had not been wanting to answer that question. The break in concentration swayed her siblings’ concentrations as well, and the magik residue that had been forming around the circle wavered.

She paused, even her breathing ceasing for a moment in time. Why was she hesitating.

 _Come on, Hanexth_ , Hanzo silently encouraged his sister, screwing his eyes shut even tighter to return to his task of honing and harmonizing his magik with the others in the room. _There are no secrets between us, Sister; no one here will judge your words-_

“I…” Hana finally began, her voice having become considerably smaller. “I miss my father and… my brother.”

Hanzo could not help but snap his eyes wide at her confession, and he felt a sharp pang string itself through his heart. His astonished gaze fell upon the girl, and he saw her biting her lip to hold back the pain evident in her features. She wasn’t talking about either of her brothers present.

The youngest princess spoke of her third brother, Genji.

Of course she missed Genji, the sibling she had been closest to all while growing up; Lena and Lucio had always been preoccupied with entertaining each other, and Hanzo was too busy helping their father rule Asavalla. Genji was the only one that made more than enough time for young Hana before the fall of the Hero King’s reign, and even continued to do so after the siblings were driven from the Obsidian City and forced to flee.

At least, up until a night that changed the family’s lives forever and deemed Hanzo unworthy in the eyes of the Higher, according to Fareeha.

Hanzo and his only blood brother had been at odds for several years prior to that night. When Genji’s Sacrament had taken place just after his sixteenth birthday, all present were bewildered to find the second prince’s spiritual corporeal to be none other than a dragon, the same symbol that was meant to depict the heir apparent. How was it possible for _two_ princes to have draconic spirits?

The eldest brother loved Genji fiercely, just as much as he loved the twins and Hana, but he constantly had felt threatened by his younger brother. Hanzo became paranoid of being lesser in comparison, being replaced, being _expendable._

The argument to keep Hanzo as heir apparent was ended with the clear fact that Hanzo’s magik had two dragons instead of one, almost as if it had been in anticipation for Genji’s magik. The rare phenomenon could easily have happened purely because they were brothers by blood, seeing as Lena and Lucio’s Sacrament hailed tigers from their magik not long after.

What had been the tipping point between the brothers was three years after their father’s demise.

Fareeha, who had been a young woman at the time, was put in charge of ensuring Lena and Lucio’s safety as the group roamed Asavalla, a place they had no longer felt at home at. Angela became a motherly figure for nine year old Hana, keeping her safe, and Reinhardt watched the elder princes’ backs. On that particular night, Hanzo and Genji had gone out alone to scout the territory ahead, the only two with any skill in stealth.

The brothers bickered as they usually did, harmless words thrown back and forth. Their weapons had been drawn, Hanzo’s Stormcry and Genji’s Echo ready at any moment to eliminate enemies. That had probably been the first mistake made that night.

The second was allowing their bickering to become a full-tilt argument, the tension instantly rising.

Hanzo, to this day, could not remember what Genji’s exact provocation had been, but the moment his younger brother had growled it defensively and made the declaration that he was far more worthy to be their father’s heir, Hanzo had snapped.

He had without hesitation summoned his magik into corporeal form, his emotional state only strengthening it. With a screech of disgusting pride, echoed by his dragons, Hanzo tore his little brother to shreds.

Literally.

Genji died that night, Hanzo only snapping from his rage when the smoke cleared and he found his brother bloody and limp on the ravaged forest ground, completely unrecognizable beneath the might of the heir apparent magik. No matter how much Hanzo screamed in horror at what he had done and how tightly he held the man he had once cradled in his arms as an infant close to twenty-five years ago, he could not take back his actions.

Hanzo had killed his brother.

In retrospect, he knew that was the moment he had begun to resent his title of true heir apparent, becoming disgusted anytime one of his companions referred to him as a prince. Even worse, they became wary of him, and his remaining siblings distanced themselves from with Hanzo only doing the same. What if he lost his temper again?

How they ever found the courage to forgive him would always remain elusive in Hanzo’s mind. He had no right to be forgiven for such a sin. Fareeha was right. The Higher must see him as a pathetic excuse for an heir to the great Hero King. Asavalla was not his birthright anymore.

“The Higher Above deems your words to be truth, Princess Hanexeth Morell Zhael, and will hear your call,” Satya now announced at the head of the circle, her eyes falling onto the illuminated Hana and returning Hanzo to the present. He hurriedly shut his eyes and prepared himself for the final part of the Sacrament.

A faint fuschia aura began to resonate around Hana, mingling with the varying colours of those present. It flowed best against her siblings blue, orange and yellow magik, before finally swirling purposefully around Hana. With a sudden flash, it took shape and Hana cried out. Her magik’s form, a phoenix with wings extended above its master, cried an echo of triumph.

Hanzo watched the phoenix rise above his sister before dissipating, allowing himself the smallest of smiles. It was an excellent rendition of Hana’s spirit, how she never gave in and only pushed herself further with that grin always baring her teeth to the world.

 _Good,_ he silently reassured himself as Lena and Lucio bounded around their exhausted little sister, happily pulling her slight arms over their shoulders to help her up. _She will be more than capable of defending herself now._

He would never admit it to anyone, and perhaps not even himself, but he trained his siblings vigorously and ensured their protectors were always at their sides due to his fear of himself. He may exude an air of self-control and discipline, but he had endured so much that he could not even trust himself to keep his younger siblings alive anymore.

Genji had been right. Hanzo had failed their father.

 

***

 

Satya stood under the light of the Higher some time later, her eyes closed and soaking in her great deity's whispers and thoughts. It was warm in the ray of sunshine, as it was anywhere else in the Southern Dunes. Around her, the faint draft of an oncoming sandstorm blew the sand from the floors of the temple and swirled it around her clothed ankles.

The Higher Voice opened her eyes.

“You hid yourself so well, I almost did not perceive you to be anything but the Higher Sight,” she murmured to the visitor behind her. “You have skilled enough magik and attunement with the Higher to even perform a Sacrament as a Sense.” The priestess turned slowly, gaze hardening as she did. “Tell me, Sombreuil Jinx, what purpose did performing the princess’s Sacrament serve you?”

The woman, Sombreuil, smirked, having traded out her pale rose Higher Sight robes for something more comfortable; the taloned armour that only the personal knights of the Reaper King wore.

“Oh, come on, you’re supposed to be all knowing, oh great _Higher Voice_ ,” Sombreuil jeered, taking a step forward to reveal an onyx blade. “Can’t even figure such an easy one out?”

Satya’s eyes narrowed and she clasped her hands over her lap. “I know you have been searching for the late Ruler Paramount's heirs for many months, though your master does not know as much. You have your own agenda, but to what end, I do not know.”

Sombreuil snorted, grinning to show her sharp teeth. “Right, right, give the lady a prize!” A pause. “And that _Hero King_ of yours was no Ruler Paramount. He never was.”

“To this day, the Higher only recognizes Jaxim Xander Morell as the true Ruler Paramount of Asavalla,” Satya countered, looking down her nose at the shorter woman. “And his children are under the protection of the Higher.”

“How dare you defy your Ruler Paramount!” Sombreuil hissed, her grin instantly being replaced by a snarl. “Gavriel Rezevs is the only king of Asavalla! Your dead monarch is nothing more than dust in the Southern Dunes!”

It suddenly clicked for Satya, and a knowing look crossed her features. “Ah. I made an error. Your name, I mean.”

Sombreuil suddenly appeared inches from Satya, surprising the priestess enough to cause her to materialize an instant barrier between them with her golden magik.

“You did make a mistake,” the other woman confirmed, magenta magik forming around her and her blade. “You’ve made a bunch of mistakes, friend.”

And with that, Sombreuil raised her sword above her head and allowed her magik to grow at an exponential rate. Satya stepped back, but she knew her shield would not be enough to protect her as her eyes widened at the sight before her.

A screeching wyvern burst from Sombreuil, a fierce resemblance to Hana’s spirit corporeal which had only just manifested hours ago.

“You have defiled a divine Sacrament!” the Higher Voice accused with a roar, enraged that someone would do such an unholy thing. “To steal a spirit form-”

“Another mistake!” Sombreuil cackled, grasping her blade with both hands. “I stole nothing! All you and those impostors did was help me with my own Sacrament too! And now, you shall die for treason!”

With a cry, the dragon descended upon Satya. “Higher Above…” she murmured, a sudden terror overtaking her, but no other prayers could be heard.

Once the dragon disappeared at her command, Sombreuil stood over Satya’s body with a satisfied smile. “You’re right, Higher Voice. My name isn’t Sombreuil Jinx anymore.

“I’d prefer to be addressed as Princess Sombra Rezevs Heine from now on, thank you very much. I don’t think my father would like it if you called me otherwise.”

With a howl of laughter, the Reaper King’s heir apparent evaporated into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Format: Original Name: Name in this Series - Who They Are)
> 
>  **Hanzo Shimada: Hanzo Xe "Hanzo" Linhano Morell Zhael** \- Prince and heir to the Asavallite throne, eldest of his siblings  
>  **Genji Shimada: Genji Qi "Genji" Vishaie Morell Zhael** \- Prince, Hanzo's blood brother, second eldest, dead  
>  **Lena "Tracer" Oxton: Kalene Zavaria "Lena" Morell Zhael** \- Princess, Lucio's twin sister, middle child  
>  **Lúcio Correia dos Santos: Luciuxano "Lucio" Morell Zhael** \- Prince, Lena's twin brother, middle child  
>  **Hana "D.Va" Song: Hanexeth "Hana" Morell Zhael** \- Princess, youngest of her siblings  
>  **Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani: Satya** \- Known as 'Voice of the Higher', priestess of the Aprithan Temples  
>  **Fareeha "Pharah" Amari: Fariihamal "Fareeha"** \- Knight of Asavalla, last of the Royal Guard, Ana's blood daughter  
>  **Reinhardt Wilhelm: Reinhardt Toramornd** \- Knight of Asavalla, former Infantry General of the Military  
>  **Angela "Mercy" Zielger: Anellahuild "Angela" Svilhilde** \- Reinhardt's daughter, healer and mage  
>  **Ana Amari: Anakazuka "Ana"** \- Head of the Royal Guard, Fareeha's blood mother, dead  
>  **Gabriel "Reaper" Reyes: Gavriel Rezevs** \- Known as the Reaper King of Asavalla, usurped the Hero King and named himself Ruler Paramount, former Cavalry General of the Military  
>  **Jack "Soldier: 76" Morrison: Jaxim "Jack" Xander Morell** \- The Hero King, father of the royal siblings, murdered by Gavriel  
>  **Sombra: Sombreuil "Sombra" Rezevs Heine** \- The Reaper King's daughter, claimed heir apparent of Asavalla


	2. Dodge and Reload

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings from the past and knowledge from the present conflict Lena. She just wants things to be like they used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some angst *chucks it at you* enjoy
> 
> Pretty much just a Lena/Tracer chapter to set up future angst, but there's a lot of key stuff in here for foreshadowing, so hope you like it!
> 
> NOTE: The Below is essentially Hell, just like the Higher is God.

“Aye, better watch out! Here comes the cavalry!”

A whole-hearted laugh came from young Lena’s right and she scowled, turning to the source of the laughter. “What, you _don’t_ say that?”

The man, who Lena was told was a part of the army but had never seen in his full armour, shook his head as he readjusted Lena’s sleeping twin in his lap as he sat on the sofa of Lena and Lucio’s sitting room. “Higher Above, no, lil’ Lena,” he told her, still snorting as she pouted dramatically, her small arms crossed over her chest. “Could you see me yelling something like that into battle?”

“I think that’s what you should do!” Lena countered, waving her arms above her to emphasize her point. “Just think of how cool you’d look! Everybody would be so scared of how cool ya were! They’d say, “Oh that knight, he’s just the coolest thing ever!”” She shot him a knowing wink. “Trust me, Uncle Gavriel, nobody can resist a man who says cool stuff.”

Gavriel snorted again, now grinning and shaking his head at the girl’s wild thoughts. “Oh, now you’re giving me courting advice? I didn’t think you were even old enough to understand romance yet, Lena. You _are_ only seven.”

“Aw, c’mon!” she waved his comment off. “Hanzie and GenGen ain’t old enough, and we both know that doesn’t stop ‘em.”

Gavriel’s horrendous laughter to the girl’s words instantly woke up Lucio, who stretched and yawned in their uncle’s lap. “What ya laughing for?”

“S-sorry, Luci,” Gavriel stuttered, wiping a tear from his eye. “Your sister here is just a riot, is all. She couldn’t have a filter even if she _wanted_ to.”

“Oi!” Lena cried indignantly. “I don’t know what a filter is, but I could have one if I wanted to!”

“Hey, you two rascals want to go outside for a bit now that you’re up, Luci?” the much older man asked the two children, standing and balancing Lucio on his hip. Lena leapt up and down in response, tired of being cooped up in her and her brother’s room while their elder brothers trained with their father. Luci rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. “Alright, can you get yourselves changed into your outdoor gear?”

“Yeah!” the twins stated together haughtily, almost insulted that he could even suggest that they weren’t old enough to do such a _simple_ task.

“Here comes the cavalry!” Lena exclaimed while swinging around a stick once the three made it outside into the castle’s courtyard. Lucio impersonated a roar towards his sister, pretending to be a fearsome monster as the brother and sister clashed twigs.

Gavriel kept an eye on them to ensure they didn’t actually hurt each other. Last time that happened and he had been babysitting the two boisterous children, their father had been so livid that Gavriel had been banned from interacting with _any_ of the royal siblings for close to six months. It had been Lena and Lucio’s constant begging for ‘Uncle Gavriel’ to hang out with them again that reinstated his babysitting privileges.

“Uncle Gravy!”

Gavriel winced at the nickname, sighing good naturedly as Lena and Lucio scampered up to him. “Yes, what can I do for you?” the forty-one year old asked the bouncing, almost four foot children with a fond smile.

“We can’t have a cavalry without horses!” Lucio whined, hooking his arms and legs around Gavriel’s ankle and gave the man a pleading look, his dark frizzy locks falling over his eyes.

“Yeah, so how can I show you how to be cool?!” Lena exasperated, following suit of her brother with Gavriel’s other ankle, her mousey brown mop pulled back with a messy bow.

Gavriel chuckled and smirked at them. “Oh, so you’re still on about showing me how to be cool?” he questioned, folding his arms over his chest. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to find you kids a horse…”

In one fell swoop, Gavriel scooped up both twins into his arms and sat them on his shoulders with a radiant grin. Gripping the now cackling children tightly, he cried loudly, “Ha ha, cavalry's here!” before charging across the courtyard with a laugh, Lena and Lucio wriggling excitedly on his shoulders.

 

***

 

“I’m gonna marry Uncle Gavriel!”

Nineteen year old Hanzo choked on his water, sputtering incoherently for a moment. _“What?!”_ he questioned his seven year old sister sitting across from him at the table with disbelieving eyes.

Beside Hanzo, sixteen year old Genji gasped in mock hurt, grasping his heart dramatically. “But you promised to marry me, Lena! Oh, my heart is forever broken!” The teenager pretended to faint and fall limp in his chair, Hanzo still recovering from his sister’s outburst.

“Huh?” Lena gave her older brother a look of disgust. “GenGen, I’d never marry an old man like you!”

“O-old?!” Genji now actually sounded hurt, instantly rebuking his sister. “Gavriel is, like, thirty years older than me, you little moron!”

“Well, if you’re gonna marry Gravy, then I’m gonna marry Ana!” Lucio then proclaimed with a smile from beside Lena.

“Ana’s already married, stupid!” Lena pointed out as thirteen year old Fareeha laughed at the end of the table.

“Then I’ll marry Fareeha!” Lucio shot back, sticking his tongue out at his sister.

“Sorry, Luci,” Fareeha told the young prince with a smile. “Maybe when you’re a little older.”

“Why in the Higher’s name would you want to marry _Gavriel?!”_ Hanzo brought the topic of conversation back to the knight.

Lena frowned, obviously confused at why her brother was so against it. “Why can’t I?”

“One, as Genji said, he’s older than our _father_ ,” the eldest at the table stated, his dinner forgotten as he began to rant. “Two, by the time you are even of marrying age, Gavriel will be an old man, or even _dead,_ and three, knights of the royal family swear an oath not to solicit with those they protect outside of their duties! He’d never marry a royal!”

“Oath, shmoath,” Lena instantly said, Hanzo rolling his eyes as he realized his sister had only heard his last few words. “Maybe I’ll just become Ruler Paramount and change the rules!”

“That will likely not be happening, Lena,” Hanzo huffed as his defensiveness of heir apparent showed. “Besides, rules like that would take many years to even be considered-”

“Oh, just leave the girl be,” Angela, the final youth sitting at the table, nudged the prince in the arm from where she sat on his other side. To Lena, she said with a sweet smile, “Do you think you love him, Lena?”

Hanzo gave an exasperated ‘ugh’ and Genji and Lucio both contorted their features into weird expressions at the mention of love. Fareeha and Lena, on the other hand, became very intent.

“I do!” Lena stated with confidence, grinning at the mere thought of the fantastic knight Gavriel, who had always been so kind to her and was the only one outside of her family that never treated her like a delicate piece of glass. He even took her advice on how to be cool! And like she said, nobody could resist someone who said cool things on a daily basis. If that wasn’t love, Lena didn’t think she’d ever know what it was.

Angela gave a sing-songy giggle and beamed, seemingly shiny as if she were a star. “A first love is very precious, Lena, so cherish it for as long as you can.” Leaning closer, the older girl also added in mischievous tone, “Maybe you can even tell him as such. Sir Gavriel is a very gallant man, and may agree to a little wedding with his princess.”

“Really?!” Lena gaped, stars practically in her eyes now. Her brothers all looked utterly grossed out, Hanzo even muttering something to Angela that Lena failed to hear.

“Alright, what’s all the chatter about?”

All six youths’ attention shot up in surprise at the authoritative voice. Hanzo and Genji simultaneously inclined their heads respectfully and said, “Father,” Angela and Fareeha both gracefully smiling with a bow in their seats to the newcomer, and Lucio and Lena both leapt from their seats with grins larger than life.

“Daddy!” the seven year olds cried happily and latched onto their father, the height difference not deterring them in the slightest.

Jack laughed and plucked both his youngest children up with ease, his deep oceanic eyes sparkling with affection as he gave them both a quick onceover. “You’ve been talking so much you haven’t even finished eating,” the Hero King playfully scolded the twins with a smirk. “The conversation must’ve been better than the food, I take it?”

“Daddy, they were talking about _love_ ,” Lucio revealed, making another face at Lena, his sister wagging her tongue out at him in retaliation.

“It was an extremely childish topic,” Hanzo added, him and Genji having returned to eating their meals. Fareeha and Angela both giggled, earning them a shooting glare from the eldest prince.

“Whoa now, why love?” Jack wondered, now turning his attention to Lena as he still hefted her and her twin brother.

Lena laughed nervously, a faint pink expanding over her cheeks and freckled nose. “Cause, I… uh…”

“She thinks she’s in love with Uncle Gravy!” Lucio gave up, ratting his sister out with a triumphant grin. Instantly, Lena snatched at her brother’s hair and the two began tussling each other, Jack grunting at the sudden jostling.

“Cut it out, guys!” Hanzo stood and tried to pull his youngest siblings apart, but Jack merely waved him off.

“Hey, cool off, you two,” Jack demanded sternly. Lena and Lucio instantly froze their movements and reluctantly backed off from each other when they saw the glare their father was sporting. “What have I told you about fighting?”

“It isn’t worth it,” the twins recited in small voices, leaning into their father’s shoulders guiltily.

Jack sighed, paused a moment to recompose himself into his fatherly demeanour instead of his monarch behaviour. “Like father, like daughter,” he muttered under his breath before placing his two youngest back on the ground. “Lucio, finish your food,” Jack told his son, ruffling the boy’s hair fondly. The boy nodded and snuck in a quick embrace from his father, then returning to his seat across from his brothers, Hanzo also sitting back down.

“Daddy, am I in trouble?” Lena asked quietly, scuffing her orange slippers and her hands nervously gripping and releasing the fabric of her sunrise orange and white dress. “I’m sorry,” she apologized suddenly, her deep hazel eyes flickering from her father to the ground and back again.

Jack chuckled and knelt before his only daughter. “You’re not in trouble,” he reassured the young girl. “Here, can you give your old man a hug?” the Ruler Paramount invited his daughter with an outstretched hand.

Lena giggled and easily wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, grinning as he followed suit around her dainty torso and shoulders. “You aren’t old, daddy!”

“Oh, I see, so I’m just chopped mold, am I?” Genji complained, groaning in his sister’s direction. Lena shot him a disgruntled expression, which he gladly returned.

“Did you really have to start liking Gavriel though, honey?”

“Daddy, don’t ruin the moment!”

 

***

 

“You look awfully fancy today, lil’ Lena. What’s the occasion?”

A ten year old Lena huffed, crossing her arms in embarrassment. Maybe it _had_ been a mistake on her part to choose such a dolled up dress, and _white_ no less. What was she thinking ?! Oh Higher Above, this was never going to work. She wanted to curse that Angela (but, to her dismay, couldn’t bring herself to do) for getting her so excited that she had actually made it this far.

Lucio wasn’t with her for once, instead off training with their father on the rare occasion Jack gave into the pestering. Lena would have joined them had she not had such an elaborate plan to execute. As well as Lucio’s absence, Hana, Lena’s three year old sister, was today being taken care of by Angela in Lena’s stead. The healer seemed to be the most skilled at keeping the rambunctious toddler at bay, and she had gladly volunteered to help Lena in her cause. The last piece of the puzzle was Gavriel, the only person she wanted to see today, and getting him out of the castle and into the Obsidian City. Plus, it was finally a sunny day, the Higher even granting Lena their favour in her quest.

“No reason!” the girl shot back, flustered that he thought she looked fancy. “Now, would you just follow me?!”

Gavriel chuckled, then sighed dramatically. “Well, I _guess_ I could,” he replied in a playfully sarcastic tone and took to falling in step beside the young princess once she haughtily began walking. “Do we have a destination?”

“There’s a super pretty garden on the edge of town I want to see!”

“Do you know how to get there?”

“I do not.”

Gavriel snorted and rolled his eyes with amusement written over his dusky and scarred features. “There’s a surprise. Alright, lil’ Lena, let’s find this garden of yours.”

The odd duo began their search by strolling the marketplace of the Obsidian City. Though Lena had a clear end goal in mind, she had visited the grand market only a very few times. It stretched around the entirety of the castle, the center of the Obsidian City, and was the social hub of Asavalla. People from all territories came to trade their specialty goods. Citizens from Anduril and Aphilea even made an appearance on rare occasion, though they were usually Asavallite immigrants. Seeing all the colour and vibrance, Lena couldn’t help but become distracted and pull the knight around to the stalls and vendors she wanted to see.

Close to an hour, and many instances of asking for directions later, Lena finally spotted the garden. “Gavriel, Gavriel, look!” she bounced at his side, her small hand grabbing his as she pointed it out. “There it is!”

“Yeah, I see it,” Gavriel nodded, hefting the collection of goods they had bought earlier. _Higher Above, I’m getting too old to keep up with her…_

The ‘garden’ was actually more of a field of wild flowers beside one of the tributaries leading to the main road into town. It was all but empty besides the flowers, spots of willow trees and groves littering the sea of colour.

“How’d you even know this place existed?” Gavriel questioned his princess as the two took to sitting beneath the shade of one of the willows and gathering up the food from their goods. “You’re hardly out of the castle grounds.”

“Daddy took us out here for the summer solstice last year!” Lena confessed, smiling cheerfully and plucking the flowers closest to her. “We watched the sunset together, and GenGen fell asleep before he could see it! He woke up when it was dark and had thought hours had passed!”

Gavriel chuckled at the personal story of the royal family. “That sounds like your brother,” he agreed, poking through the food to retrieve an orange. “So you wanted to come out here to see the flowers again? Or are we staying out here until dark? I don’t know how much Jack would like that…”

“No, no, of course we’ll go back before dark!” Lena assured the man with a wave of her hand. “I just wanted to… erm, you know…”

Lena was rarely a nervous person. She prided herself in her confidence and always wanted to make friends with anyone she came across. It just meant hearing more stories and making more people happy with her bubbly personality. Having her twin at her side doubled everything about her, which usually led to the majority of their social encounters and interactions. Finding one twin meant also finding the other, for Lucio and Lena were always together.

But today, Lena had to do this on her own. Even her closest friend, her twin brother, her other half couldn’t help her with what she was going to do.

Young Lena sucked in a breath and boldly stated, “I wanted to show it to you, Gavriel!”

Only then did Gavriel notice a crucial detail. _When did she stop calling me Uncle?_

Lena bit her lip, her cheeks and ears burning. Ugh, she had sounded so stupid, just saying it like that! To hide her embarrassment as his stunned gaze watched her, she reached into the pocket of her dress to produce a small charcoal silk bag flecked with ivory white, tied at the opening with a disgruntled piece of ribbon. Unceremoniously, she shoved the pouch at Gavriel.

Gavriel took the silk pouch with uncertainty, frowning with confusion in his eyes. He glanced at the girl, then back to the pouch before pulling the ribbon off and shaking the contents into his palm.

A thin but elaborate signet ring lay in his hand, a darkened silver acting as the metal with carvings of a sword and lion, the crest of the royal knights of Asavalla. Either side of the carving was encrusted with a gemstone, one onyx and the other moonstone. Just by looking at it, Gavriel knew full well that it had been handcrafted by an expert jeweler, one that only people like the royal family had access to. Moonstone alone cost a fortune and some.

“Stop looking at it so weirdly,” Lena complained, chewing at her inner cheek and fidgeting with her dress. “If you don’t like it, just give it here-”

Gavriel closed his hand protectively around his gift when the girl reached for it with her dainty hands, surprising her. She glanced up at him questioningly, still in mid reach. Gavriel only smirked. “But I love it,” he told her cheekily. “Why would I give it back?”

“What?!” Lena cried, blushing madly when Gavriel slipped the ring onto the fourth finger of his right hand, flexing his fingers to adjust it. “B-but, it’s a stupid little gift from a kid, a-and you might think it’s stupid too and you’ll never wear it around other people-”

“Lil’ Lena,” Gavriel cut her off, gruffly placing his open hand on the top of her head, mussing her shoulder length brown locks so some strands stood up from static. “Does this look stupid to you?” he asked in all seriousness, raising his hand to show her the ring she had just given him. “Well?”

“I guess not,” she told him reluctantly, knowing that’s what he wanted to hear. He nodded in agreement, smoothing down her hair fondly.

“Great, now you’ve outdone me!” Gavriel suddenly exasperated, startling Lena as he threw his hands into the air. “Here I was thinking I’d impress the most stubborn little girl in Asavalla with my big ol’ surprise, and all I get is her one upping me!”

Lena snickered, her nerves suddenly forgotten. “C’mon, Gravy, we both know I’ll one up ya until the day I die. You’ll be turning over in your grave at my awesomeness!”

“Oh Higher, please don’t tell me that,” Gavriel chuckled and shook his head, rummaging through the pack he had brought along before pulling out a very small box no bigger than Lena’s tiny palm.

“Here you go, kid,” he said as he pulled Lena’s hand over and placed the box in her grasp. “It’s for whenever you can’t sleep.”

Lena frowned, mirroring the face Gavriel had made when she gifted him the silk pouch, then plucked the lid off the top.

It was a music box, a small carved and wooden figure twirling slowly on the inside. Lena’s eyes widened and she beamed, know the melody well. “It’s my favourite song!” she cried happily.

“Course it’s your favourite song,” Gavriel returned indignantly. “You hum that tune so much that even _I_ know all the notes to it!”

Lena giggled and held the box close to her heart. “Thanks, Gavriel,” she gushed affectionately, listening intently to the soft music playing from the box. “I think this beats the ring, though-”

_“Lena!”_

Lena’s heart stuttered when Gavriel suddenly threw his weight over her small form and she involuntarily squeaked in surprise. She wanted to cry out in anger or embarrassment, but before she could protest against his sudden actions, the man scraped up his pack and Lena in one movement and began to run.

“Hold on to me!” Gavriel commanded audibly, eyes glancing over his shoulder as Lena’s own found the arrow embedded in the tree her and the man had just been beneath.

A second arrow hissed past them and Gavriel narrowly ducked away from it, growling threats and curses under his breath. Still gripping Lena tightly to him as he sprinted in the direction of the city, he ripped a short sword free of the bag, then discarding it and shifting the blade in his palm.

“Dammit!” the knight muttered after another glance over his shoulder, finding there were three of them chasing him and the princess, who had buried her face into his shoulder, dampening it with fearful tears. Had they recognized him or Lena? Gavriel wasn’t a nobody in Asavalla, being hailed as one of the greatest Cavalry Generals the country had ever known, but Lena was hardly brought into the public eye, and she was the more important of the two. Hanzo and Genji took on the responsibility of publicly being Jack’s heirs, while Lena and Lucio were hidden at the Ruler Paramount’s explicit command. Maybe they only thought she was some noble’s daughter due to the exquisiteness of her light clothing and thought they could ransom her.

Either way, Gavriel wasn’t about to give the princess up, even if it meant having her dash towards the castle and him taking on the three armed highwaymen alone. Easy pickings for him, but he would not be able to fight to his fullest if he was trying to protect Lena simultaneously.

Why had the damned garden have to be a half a mile from the main market?! Gavriel was no young man anymore, and his laboured breathing was beginning to show as such as he fell from a dash to a quick jog.

The third arrow finally found its mark, and Gavriel cried out. Lena yelped in terror when she saw the arrowhead pierce through the man’s torso and his step faltered heavily.

“Fuck!” Gavriel swore, eyes clenched shut and his teeth gritting. He couldn’t stop, though, and he forced himself to bite back the pain the best he could. “Keep your head down!” he shouted at a sobbing Lena, who obediently hid her face again, gripping his neck as if for dear life.

He wasn’t going to outrun them, he suddenly realized. They looked far more fit than any highwaymen should have been, so that meant they were most likely assassins and had know him and Lena would be away from crowds today. That also meant they weren’t going to ransom the princess when they could easily be paid for just killing her.

Grinding his teeth to distract from the wound in his side, Gavriel finally spun and dropped Lena to the ground, shoving her behind him to make a final stand and give her a chance to escape. Higher Above, this would be a pathetic way to go out after everything he had been through in his forty-four years. But, at least he could be remembered as giving his life to protect his princess.

“When I tell you to, make a run for the city,” Gavriel murmured to Lena, one hand protectively keeping her in place and the other holding his blade at the ready. Why had he opted for no armour today of all days? Perhaps the lack of conflict throughout the country had made him let his guard down. He snorted morbidly at the thought as the three assassins came to a halt and circled around Gavriel. They must have believed a wounded and outnumbered man would be no match for them, because the archer replaced his bow for a curved dagger, a sickening grin stretched over his features. The other two already held razor sharp blades in hand, the female of the two sporting a pair instead of just one.

“Lord Gavriel Rezevs,” the second man, the one with a single sword, called. He had distanced himself from Gavriel, so he must have known Gavriel’s prowess in battle enough to stay out of range prior to combat. “Give us the princess and we will let you live.”

“Like bloody Below you will,” the knight spat angrily, gaze flickering between the three as they eyed Lena. “You’d just kill me anyways, wouldn’t you?”

A smirk from the leader. “Most likely, yes. But your uncooperativeness will cost two lives instead of one, guaranteed. Is that what you want?”

“Higher damn you all,” Gavriel rasped menacingly, his magik beginning to pulse through his blade, wispy and shadowy as it flowed like tendrils around him. “I’m taking Her Highness home the moment I’m done with you three bastards. Maybe I’ll even track down who sent you and give them your heads!”

“You will not even make it back to the Obsidian City!” the leader suddenly snarled and launched himself at Gavriel, weapon swift.

The knight parried the attack the best he could, grunting as he felt the force push down on his wound, the arrow still embedded in his side. With a spurt of strength, Gavriel shoved his boot into the man’s gut, causing him to careen back. In almost an instant, though, the female of the three leapt at him with her blades backhanded.

Gavriel exchanged blow after blow with her, blocking with his sword and taking a slice to the upper arm. In his peripheral vision, he saw the other two making their moves, the archer lunging for Lena.

With a swiftness he didn’t know he still retained, Gavriel elbowed the woman in the head with his free arm, simultaneously slashing at the archer and making enough of a wound to cause him to howl in pain and falter his advances on the princess. Gavriel took the opportunity to grab the assassin’s collar and jerk him back, using momentum to collide him with the leader and knock them both to the grass. With a roar, he lifted his sword and channelled his magik, ready to let the steel tear through both men in one blow.

“Drop the sword, or the princess dies!”

Gavriel halted and his muscles tensed rigidly at the declaration from behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to hear Lena’s whimpers and gasps of pain to know a blade was at her delicate throat. “G-gavriel!” the girl cried, hiccuping through her tears, and the knight snarled, utterly enraged.

He eventually released his sword, in turn instantly dissipating his magik, and the two men he had meant to kill recomposed themselves and knocked him to his knees. The leader sneered down at him, Gavriel only glowering in response before a snap of pain against his abdomen forced him to the ground and coughing up blood.

Lena was only ten. Why in the Higher’s name were they forcing her to watch him like this, her knight in shining armour?

Another animalistic growl tore past Gavriel’s throat. With blazing eyes, he returned to his knees, ignoring the splintered arrow shaft shifting painfully in his side. “If you’re going to kill, you’ll have to do better than that,” he jeered, a disturbing smirk crossing his bloodied lips.

The leader went to return the insult, but was stopped when blood splattered across his cheek.

Gavriel also was stunned. Beside the leader, the third assassin crumpled to the dirt with an arrow through his eye and protruding out the back of his skull. A second _thunk_ telltale of another arrow and a scream from Lena gave Gavriel the opening he need. With a flash of anger, the knight snatched up his weapon and swung, instantly slicing open the throat of the leader.

“Shit,” he muttered, dropping the sword again and finally feeling the searing pain from his wound with a disgruntled groan.

“Kalene!” a new voice cried, and Gavriel turned to find out who his saviour was.

One of the ones approaching was Prince Hanzo, Lena’s eldest brother and the one who had called out to her. No doubt he was also the one that finished off the other two assassins, as Stormcry was still in hand as he gathered his trembling and shock-instilled sister into his arms.

The second to come was Jack.

The guards that had followed their Ruler Paramount out to the edges of the city quickly began pulling the bodies away from the area to identity and burn them, as well as stationing themselves around the three royals to watch for any more enemies. Among them was Ana’s daughter, standing tall.

Gavriel finally pulled himself to his feet to meet his king. He knew what was coming, though, the moment he saw the incensed look crawling over his features and steeling his azure eyes.

“Jack, I-” Gavriel began to defend, but Jack gave him no quarter, immediately cracking his white knuckles into Gavriel’s jaw.

The knight stumbled back and hacked more blood, spitting it aside. Holding his mouth with the same hand that wore the ring Lena had given him, he faced Jack once more. “Jack, I’ll take every punishment you want to give me, but I’d rather we get Lena back to-”

Another fierce punch. _“What were you thinking?!”_ Jack screeched furiously, grabbing Gavriel’s crimson dyed collar and pulling him forward with a jerk. _“What the fuck were you thinking, taking my daughter out here alone?!”_

Gavriel had no answer, and Jack screamed furiously as he threw another punch into Gavriel’s now broken nose and shoved him away. “Angela!” Jack commanded with a shout, not giving his knight a second look before Reinhardt’s daughter appeared and began to tend to Gavriel’s wounds.

“D-daddy, please don’t hurt him,” Lena murmured quietly, speaking to her father but her deep gaze locked with Gavriel’s. “H-he only came out here because of me, it isn’t his fault!” In her hand, she still gripped the small music box.

“Ssh, Lena,” Jack soothed, taking her small form from Hanzo and lifting her into his own arms. “We’re going home, alright? Let’s get you back to Lucio. Eyes on me, Lena, keep your eyes on me.”

With exhausted eyes, Gavriel watched the princess as she was taken from the field of wildflowers, darkness beginning to fall over the sky.

 

***

 

Lena was fourteen the night she dreamed of a ghost.

She had a nightmare that night, as she usually did since Gavriel’s death a year prior. Her music box would have put her back to sleep if the power source had not faded the same day Gavriel died and her father returned home alone.

Tonight, instead of waking Lucio, she intended to go to her father for comfort. Seven year old Hana was too young to provide to emotional support Lena needed, twenty-three year old Genji too ‘grown-up’ to have her whining to him, and twenty-six year old Hanzo hardly spoke to his sister in recent days due to the heaviness of his duties as heir apparent. Perhaps her ever busy father could spare a moment for her.

The princess had pulled herself from the curtained bed, glancing to her snoring brother on the other side of the room before donning a pair of satin socks and beginning her trek down the hall. Her father’s chambers were on the other side of the grand staircase that led to the royal quarters, so she took a quick moment to peek inside Hana’s room to ensure the young girl was sleeping soundly. To Lena’s amusement, she found Angela passed out in the armchair in the corner. She would have to tease the healer about it in the morning when she noticed a slight bit of drool glint from Angela’s mouth.

A yawn escaped her lips once she exited the royal siblings’ hall, rubbing her eyes she headed towards her father’s room.

That’s when she noticed it.

Lena didn’t know what exactly to even _call_ it other than a wraith, dressed in smoke and a mask of bone. Her eyes widened at the sight slowly making its way up the stairs and in the direction of the Ruler Paramount’s room. It’s hooded face turned to her slowly, the darkness keeping her from seeing if it had any eyes at all.

A scream choked in her throat when she also saw the guards stationed at the foot of the steps limp upon the ground, but no sound escaped her and her eyes only returned in astonishment to the wraith.

“Do not make a sound,” it spoke, voice gravelly and deep, drawling the words. “I don’t wish to hurt you.”

“W-who are you?” Lena murmured, begging the Higher to protect her.

The wraith paused. “Lena,” it said quietly. “Go back to your room. You’re still asleep. You’re dreaming. How else would you explain my presence?”

“I-I guess there wouldn’t be another way,” she whispered back, hands trembling. Of course there was no other explanation. She was still sleeping. This was all a dream. Giving a stuttered nod, she back-stepped in hopes of escaping unscathed. “I s-should just go back…”

Then the youth noticed a glint of light on the right hand of the wraith, still hazed by the smoke, but unmistakable nonetheless.

The ring Lena had given Gavriel four years prior.

Again, her eyes widened. Her heart stuttered at the mere thought of him. Gavriel had died a year ago, and Lena had wept for hours in mourning, scourning the music box for failing her as a keepsake of him. She had been trying for eleven months to get over a man who had never been hers, and never would have been.

“How do you have that ring?”

The wraith clenched its hand, disappearing into a plume of smoke before materializing directly in front of Lena, looming menacingly above the princess. She yelped, but a taloned hand shot up and covered her mouth.

“You know I’m dead,” the voice now whispered, far more sensual than before, “yet here I am. I’m only your imagination, lil’ Lena. Now, go back to bed. Please.”

With that, the wraith evaporated once more, and Lena was left with tears pricking her eyes as she was blissfully unaware what was soon to befall her father.

“Gavriel?”

Of course she was dreaming. She had to be. There was no other explanation with the signet ring, or the fact that he called her ‘lil’ Lena’ just like Gavriel used to.

Back in her own room, the faint sound of music could be heard from a dead music box.

 

***

 

Lena awoke with a gasp, completely disoriented.

She shot up from her laying position and panted, hand over her heart and feeling it palpitate beneath her palm. Where was she? Had that all be her dreaming?

Glancing around, she found half Lucio’s body sprawled over hers, and a vague recollection of ‘not enough space for comfortable sleeping’ crept through her mind as she saw not the fourteen year old version of her twin brother, but the twenty-six year old Lucio. Across from her, Hanzo sat in a meditative position against the clay wall, having fallen asleep just like that, and Hana and Angela were leaning against a horrendously loud snoring Reinhardt as a replacement for a mattress. Fareeha stood just inside the darkened cave, her glittering eyes observing the sandstorm raging just beyond her in the night air.

Lena sighed, falling back and curling against her twin for warmth, which Lucio gladly provided. _That’s right,_ she thought as sleep failed to return to her and she became acutely aware of the useless music box in the bag she laid her head upon. _Gavriel’s dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES, I headcanon ReapTracer as an unrequited past love.
> 
> And that Gabe's real nickname is Gravy.
> 
> And that Tracer's signature motto was something she picked up from Gabe.
> 
> AND WHERE DID GABE'S ORANGE GO? DID HE EAT IT? DID HE THROW IT AT A LOVEY-DOVEY COUPLE COMING TOWARDS HIM AND LENA CAUSE THEY LOOKED GROSS? WE WILL NEVER KNOW.
> 
> Have a lovely day, y'all.


	3. Breath It In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the dead can be frightened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHAAAGGGGHH okay to that wonderful commenter who said writing shorter chapters would be easier on me, THANK YOU, YOU ARE A GENIUS, OMG like seriously, this chapter is dedicated to you, man
> 
> Anyways, MORE ANGST and this is where the plot starts ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) enjoy!

“My lord, please wake up!”

Hanzo snapped from his slumber almost instantly at the urgent voice, shaking the spectres of his past from his mind. Instinctively, his hand twitched to his bow and he made it to one knee. “What is it?!” the archer questioned in a hushed voice once he noticed it had been Fareeha who woke him. Her expression looked stoney, almost… _mournful._

“We need to leave Apritho,” she told him, the hilt of her sword already in hand. _“Now.”_

Recognizing the tone that was tell tale of danger, Hanzo leapt up, wide awake suddenly. “Kalene, Luciuxano!” he hissed to the twins directly in front of him as Fareeha kept a flickering watch on the breaking dawn of the Southern Dunes. “Everyone, up!”

Reinhardt shot up at the sound of his liege's voice, Last Word in his hands as he cried incoherent threats to an invisible enemy. Hana and Angela were both awoken as they were thrown from the massive knight, followed by Lena and Lucio groggily untangling themselves from each other. “Where’s th’bad guy?” Lena muttered, rubbing her eyes with Lucio yawning and Hana and Angela being helped up by Reinhardt.

“The Higher Senses are dead,” Fareeha then disclosed, looking back to the siblings. “Four bodies were discovered in the temples at dawn. The fifth is missing.”

Hanzo was taken aback by the news. They had only been with the Higher Senses the afternoon prior, meaning their attacker had struck in the night, or even just after they had left.

“Higher Above,” Angela murmured from behind Hanzo, the others stunned to silence. “We’ve been blessed to have escaped their fate.”

“You mentioned the fifth Sense was missing,” Hanzo reiterated, shaking his growing worry into the back of his mind. “Do you believe it was them that assassinated the others?”

Fareeha nodded. “It is the only explanation that makes enough sense. The Senses are never weak; they are as capable in combat as you and I, though are pacifists by nature. Only someone strong enough to become or disguise themselves as one of the Senses would also be able to kill them.”

“Then my speculation was correct!” Reinhardt suddenly growled, stepping forward to confront Hanzo. “My lord, they must have been after you and your family! If they are a spy of the Reaper King, there is a chance they are already hours away from here, and will soon reveal your location to him. He will finally make good on his promise! Though you and I, as well as Fareeha, can protect the group, we will not be able to outrun-”

“Then we split up!” Hana piped up, having moved to stand beside Reinhardt, accentuating the height difference of close to two feet. The princess stood tall, and just as Hanzo was about to immediately shut the suggestion down, she said, “We’ll be harder to track in separate groups, right? Plus, we can divide up the manpower and still be faster on foot, unless we can somehow get the coin for transport, which I highly doubt we can pull off.”

“But we don’t even know where we can go!” Lucio shot back, both him and Lena making it evident that they did not want to be separated from their family, especially each other. “The Reaper King has every main route heavily guarded, and those are the only ways to Anduril and Aphilea without promise of _death_ -”

“Brother, wait.”

Lucio gave Hanzo a surprised expression. “What, you aren’t seriously considering it, are you?! Hanzo, we’ve just barely scraped by with our _lives_ since being banished, and not even all of us have survived!”

The eldest all but growled and gave his only living brother a harsh glare. “You think I do not know that?!” Hanzo shouted, but immediately reined his anger when the echo of his voice silenced his brother and their companions. Closing his eyes, he sighed and reminded himself of all that his temper has done for him. “Look,” he began again, returning his gaze to Lucio and noticed Lena had taken a subconscious step closer to her twin. “I do not wish to be separated just as much as you, but we may not have a choice. Hanexeth is right; we can move faster if there are fewer of us. We will be harder to track. How we managed to remain undetected for this long in such a large group now eludes me.”

“But where’ll we go?” Lena asked now, still beside Lucio. “If someone’s going to be coming after us, then they know what we look like. And even if we could get out of Asavalla, then what? We just hide out for the rest of our days? Never see each other again?!” She was suddenly horrified by the idea, Lucio mirroring the look of dismay. “If separating means I can’t see my family again, then count me out.”

Suddenly, Hanzo could not help but smile ever so slightly at Lena’s words. For once, she hadn’t just counted Lucio, but Hana and him as well. “Do not fret, Kalene,” the eldest brother told his sister in as soothing of a voice as he could conjure, giving a glance to Lucio and Hana as well. “We are family, like you said. We can never lose track of each other, even if we wished to. It is perhaps just time for us to seek separate paths and live our lives. End our running. Start anew. When the time is right, we will find each other again.”

“My lord, the clock is ticking,” Fareeha reminded Hanzo, eyes flickering from the cave entrance to him.

Hanzo nodded in return and took a deep breath. “Fareeha, Angela, Reinhardt,” the prince addressed each of the three protectors, the determination in his dusky gaze resonating to them. “Can I trust you with my brother and sisters? If so, then I put their lives in your hands from now on.”

“Hanzo…” Hana murmured, and the prince knew his sister had realized his plan. The two knights and healer present steeled their expressions at their liege’s words and nodded solemnly, also knowing what Hanzo meant.

“Reinhardt, take Kalene and Luciuxano north, back to your homeland,” Hanzo began now, doling out commands the best he could. “Teach them everything you can about combat - no, you two are far from ready to be on your own - and keep yourselves under alternative guises. See if you can find a permanent stead.” Reinhardt nodded in acknowledgement, having already gathered together his pack. “Fareeha and Angela, I entrust Hanexeth to you. Head east, to Anduril, and seek haven in either the Eastern Boureals or Anduril itself. Continue her training, if you can, and remain wary of the border. Though it has been peaceful for the most part, conflict still arises from wounds of the Great Cataclysm.” The two women voiced their agreement, Fareeha obviously itching to disembark. With a saddened smile, Hanzo then said, “Please keep my siblings safe for me.”

“My lord, you needn’t go off alone!” Reinhardt objected, but all could hear the resignation in his booming voice.

“I must,” Hanzo countered nonetheless, forcing himself to watch the pained expression of his younger siblings. “It is time I redeem myself in the eyes of the Higher, and that is something I must do alone. Besides, all your Sacraments have been done. You have no need for my presence anymore.”

Hanzo was suddenly tackled into an embrace from his youngest sister. “I’ll always need you, Big Brother,” the youth murmured as her delicate fingers grasped Hanzo’s cloak tightly. “No matter what happens, I always want you to be there for me, even if you aren’t there physically.”

Lena and Lucio followed suit, both tucking themselves under Hanzo’s arms and holding their siblings. The archer did not need to look closely to see his brother and sisters were beginning to tear up.

Hanzo bit his inner cheek tightly to shove back his own sobs and his arms held his family close. For years, he had never known if they still even saw him as their brother, let alone relied on him as he wished they would, only ever seeking their acceptance after what he had done. Seeing them act like this towards him would last him a lifetime, even if he never saw any of them again. “Please, keep yourselves safe,” he murmured to the three, closing his eyes and drinking in their warmth and affection. “I swear that I will find you all again. Kalene, Luciuxano, Hanexeth: I love you three more than anything in this world, and may the Higher Above watch over you while I cannot.”

 

***

 

“They’ve split up.”

The sellsword nodded as he watched the three groups head in opposing directions with the help of a magik through-screen, a technique only developed and taught for soldiers of the Great Cataclysm thirty years ago. “Smart. Harder to track that way.”

“But Hanzo heads off alone,” the sellsword’s companion pointed out, frowning as she also watched the three groups through the sellsword’s flaring red magik. “He will be vulnerable without someone to watch his back.”

“What do you think I’m doing this for?” the sellsword asked sarcastically, indicating the screen of magik he watched the groups from.

His companion gave him a deadpan look and rolled her eyes. “And how do you expect to rescue him from danger, or any of the rest of them for that matter, when we are on the other side of the country?”

“I don’t,” the man shot back in a sharp, gravelly voice, his expression hidden by his metallic mask. “The kid can take care of himself, like he’s always done. He doesn’t need my help.”

With a sudden parenting sympathy, the woman’s face softened and she looked back to the screen, which was now focused on the eldest prince as he pulled his hood low and hid his bow from sight (Higher knew that weapon was recognizable to anyone of importance). “You are certain he will be alright? He battles not only physical enemies, but his inner demons as well. His mind has been transfixed on ensuring the others’ safety for so long, and he may not fare well on his own.”

“I said he’ll be _fine,”_ the sellsword argued, dissipating the screen with a snap of his fingers. He stood and reached for his sword, a weapon that still felt foreign in fingers trained for only one blade. “Now c’mon,” he then called to the woman, who still sat at the inn room’s table. “We got a job to finish, and Higher knows my rep can’t take another dead employer.”

The woman watched him for a moment to see if she could spot any change in his demeanor after seeing the danger the eldest prince was putting himself in. She only noticed one: his grip was fiercely tight on his scabbard, the gloved knuckles no doubt whitening. The sellsword may say he held no fear, but she knew the only anxiety he harboured was reserved for the true princes and princesses of Asavalla that roamed the world alone. If anything were to happen to any more of them, something like what befell young Genji ten years prior, the sellsword would never forgive himself for not having been there.

Finally, she sighed and stood, pulling her bow over back and hooking the matching quiver to her hip. “I suppose you are right. Let us go.”

 

***

 

Even though the Reaper King no longer slept, that did not stop him from still experiencing dreams.

And nightmares.

Higher, how ironic it was that the corpse still had night terrors.

The night was deep when he roused himself from his empty bedroom. There were no adjacent rooms, no lavish furniture, and the single window matched the size of the single door. Even if he was widespread considered a tyrant for his method of taking the throne, he had not stepped foot in the Ruler Paramount’s quarters since he took the life of his predecessor.

His smoky form, generated by his unstable magik, ghosted into the corridor. A few doors down, the light of coming from under Sombra’s heavily double doors gave away that she was likely not going to sleep a wink that night, instead devoting her energy to furthering her magikal knowledge. The wraith took a moment outside her room, debating whether or not to disturb her personal studies.

That is, until he noticed a deep scuff in the stone wall directly beside the door.

_“Your Ruler Paramount is dead, and you still intend to fight me?!”_

_A sword lunged for his gut. In an instant, his material form dissipated into magik, the blade slashing into the stone wall instead._

_“Where’d he go?!”_

_“I don’t know! Watch your- AAAGH!”_

_“Fools! I’m going to send you all to your graves!”_

The Reaper King narrowed his eyes scrutinizingly, then turned away from his daughter’s room and continued down the hall.

Seamlessly blending in with shadowed walls of his own castle, he avoided his own guards and servants. They were not loyal to him: he knew that was the truth. They only remained for fear of their lives or the lives of those they loved. Before he knew it, though, he found himself in an empty, but familiar, courtyard bathed in moonlight.

_He had discarded his mask, and now his prey stared in horror at him. A lone young man stood between him and those he intended to slay, his sandy eyes wide with disbelief as he struggled to keep a grip on his sword._

_“D-dad?! What happened to you? W-why’re you doing this…”_

_“Move, Jesse._ **_Now_ ** _.”_

_“No! I won’t let you hurt ‘em! They’re family, j-just like you! We ain’t supposed to hurt family! We protect ‘em! You taught me that, for Higher’s sake!” A glance to those behind him. “Hanzo, go now-”_

_“Jesse, watch out!”_

_A single swing of his scythe, and the boy who called himself the son of the wraith screamed._

The rain had washed away the blood long ago, but he could still feel that agony resonating from the cobblestone where he had taken the arm of a child he had raised.

He grit his teeth and took a heavy breath. Why was he retracing the steps of his nightmare?

A darkened part of his mind forced his gaze to the archway across the courtyard.

_He pursued the five heirs, shouting threats and promises of the afterlife in their wake. He could hear the youngest of them crying, clutched in her second-eldest brother’s arms._

_“This way!” he heard a new voice command, and once he reached the siblings, he found them guarded by none other than his former fellow general, the general’s daughter, and the daughter of a dead soldier._

_“Higher Above, it_ **_is_ ** _you,” Reinhardt murmured in astonishment, but his grasp on the Last Word never faltered._

_“Get out of my way,” he hissed, and slashed his scythe, claiming the knight’s eye._

He had still allowed them to escape, and he had returned into the castle, Jesse was long gone.

“This needs to end,” he breathed to himself, his distorted voice coming out as if he were Death itself. “This can’t haunt me anymore. You’re _dead._ Now I’ll just erase every fucking _trace_ of you.”

 

***

 

To his luck (or misfortune), Lena seemed to have sensed him and awoke from her slumber to go to the window of the bungalow. At the sight of her, the Reaper King clenched his dismantled jaw and felt his chest tighten.

When the woman was nothing more than a girl, he had seen so much of a man he loved and killed in her: so much strength and determination, never a drop of fear in those hazel eyes. He had only ever seen her as the daughter of a man the Reaper King loved to hate and hated to love.

But seeing the woman that young girl had grown into was something the Reaper King should not have had to privilege of beholding.

Lena’s hair was dark with neglect and sheared badly at the ends where she had recently cut it, the strands now short and roughly combed to one side. The candle on the window sill illuminated her deep eyes and brought out the fierce life in them, and her posture spoke of no loneliness or pain. Only optimism. The wraith also saw the sunrise orange tiger prowling across her skin, reminding him he was never able to witness her spirit form as her Sacrament had happened after he had taken the throne. Seeing it now, he knew the golden colour suited her better than his darkness ever did.

The murderer watched the princess whose father he had killed, and all he could think was that she was beautiful in the moonlight.

_This was a mistake._ He knew that much was true as he stood among the shadows of the back alley, far more than just tempted to steal her from that window and disappear into the night. When he had been with her father, the Reaper King never had to hold back. There was nothing that laid between them but duty and hierarchy. Now, an entire past stood between him and the woman across the street.

Why had he come here to begin with? Only anguish and regret awaited him. Was this some twisted sense of torture he was doing unto himself, seeing her now and imagining what could have been? Her affection for him years ago was not something he had been unaware of, or even something he ignored. Below, he knew the moment he grew distant from her father all that time ago, it had been her he sought ratification from, even if she had only been a child. Remembering his devotion to such a young girl induced utter disgust from him now, even if he told himself that she had a soul older than his own residing within that immature form.

But the Lena Zhael he saw now was someone who he could not have, even if she wanted him likewise. For some deranged reason, he still called out to her.

Lena started at his voice, not recognizing it, and ducked under the window sill. No doubt, she was reacting accordingly to thinking she was in danger, and the Reaper King wanted to reassure her that he would never hurt her, even if he wanted to. His dead voice instead called her again. “Lil’ Lena.”

That brought her back into the window, and he stepped from the shadows he had found solace in. Together, they watched the other as moonlight pooled between them like the pain both felt.

He was suddenly overwhelmed by her heavy and stunned gaze, and said, “You’re dreaming.”

Her expression hardened, and her gaze shifted to a sharp glare, fingers clenching the window sill until they were white at the knuckles. “The last time you told me that, my father died. Did you come here to kill my brother and not face me while you do it? I won’t let you get anywhere near him this time!”

The Reaper King spoke not a word, and Lena’s fierce look became one of hatred. “Why in Higher’s name are you here, bastard?! Go back to that castle you stole from my family! _LEAVE!”_ Tears were suddenly in her eyes and she took a step away from the window. “Stop it,” she demanded in a small voice. “Stop looking at me. You aren’t him. _You aren’t him.”_

He did not know if she was telling him as such or trying to convince herself.

“You never opened the music box again, did you?”

He despised the sound of his own voice, but if it meant Lena stayed, he would speak until his lungs gave out.

The look she responded with was dark and her eyes dripped with venom. That emotion looked so foreign on her soft features. “I got rid of that thing a long time ago.”

“...No, you didn’t.”

Lena flinched and bristled. “I did,” she assured him with a growl. “Traded it for a set of knives. I’ve gotten real good with those lately, y’know. Should I show you? I could put three in you before you could blink.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he hissed back, not an ounce of malice in his words. “But you can’t kill a dead man, Lena. Believe me; you wouldn’t be the first to try.” Behind his mask, his dusky eyes locked with hers. “But you’re lying. I can always tell when you’re lying. You still have it.”

She bit her lip, and a light sob choked in her throat. “Of course I still have it,” she whispered softly. “But you didn’t give it to me. _He_ did. And he’s dead, so don’t try to parade around like you mean something to me.”

_Don’t cry,_ he wanted to say. But she was right. He was no longer the man she had been so fond of. _I’m sorry. Forgive me._

No words were spoken for a few moments. Lena chest rose and fell heavily, making her turmoil evident. The wraith knew he should have left some time ago, or not even have come in the first place, but…

What was he expecting out of this? Lena would never take him back into her life, and he would never apologize for what he had done. His sudden appearance after so many years was going to change nothing: nothing between them, and nothing of the state of Lena’s family. The wraith had brought all of this upon himself and those who had been around him years ago.

“You didn’t have to leave the castle, you know. It was only yourselves that forced you into exile. You could have remained in your home.”

“Liar!” Lena spat, muscles tensing. “You tried to kill us all that night! You were going to kill me just like you… you…”

“My lady, what is with all the noise?”

Lena’s gaze whipped around at Reinhardt’s voice, and the Reaper King’s body seemed to move on its own at the sight of her vulnerability. In the blink of an eye, he had his taloned gauntlet curled around the delicate skin of her throat, his other hand bracing himself against the window frame. His cloak swirled around him in response to his sudden movement and Lena squeaked in surprise, the tendons in her neck going rigid under the wraith’s grip. He made sure their eyes were locked and she could see the pitch black that lay beneath his mask when he spoke.

“I came to say goodbye, Lena.”

“I’m not scared of you,” she stuttered with a defiant expression, but he could see her hands trembling at her sides.

“...You should be.”

Without another word, the Reaper King vanished under the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Jesse McCree: Jessexe "Jesse" Demon -** Gavriel Rezevs' son, missing and presumed dead


	4. Scion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soldier keeps flipping between death and life.

_ “-ck.” _

_ “Co--n, Ja--” _

_ “You know, your eyes are really handsome when you’re crying.” _

“MOTHERFU-”

“Language, Soldier.”

The sellsword heaved for breath, attempting to little avail to rein his heart rate and refill his lungs. He was sitting bolt upright in his cot, he finally realized, and was all but drenched in a cold sweat from his nightmare.

“That dream again?” his partner, Ghost, asked from where she knelt before the battered hearth in the corner. She did not look up.

The sellsword, Soldier, finally calmed his breathing. He swiped at his eyes, angry to find he had indeed shed tears. “Always that dream,” he growled as he threw aside the threadbare covers and stood to stretch his aging limbs. “What time is it?”

“Hardly dawn,” Ghost told him as she stood, Soldier now noticing she had already donned her inexpensive and sparse armour. Plucking her mask from the ground, the one piece of her armour she would never dare dent, she then said, “Imperials were spotted in the streets last night. Best we move on.”

“Agreed,” Soldier nodded, snatching his own garments and dressing swiftly. “Let’s get this done.”

 

***

 

Soldier stood square across from his prey, eyes narrowed as he panted. “Try that again, bastard. I  _ dare _ you.”

The swordsman spat at Soldier’s feet resentfully. “What, old man?” the thug growled. “You gonna gut me? Gotta be faster than that to hit me-”

Soldier smashed his fist into the thug’s nose again, grunting as he did so. Though he took the name as an insult, ‘old man’ was beginning to seem like the best way to describe him nowadays. He was getting closer to sixty years under his belt than a half-century, and getting himself beat up every other day by far more capable men wasn’t helping his physical state.

Retirement? Out of the question. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do with his life outside of taking up the sword for pay. There would be nothing else for him to live for: everything he had loved was gone. Now, he was just waiting for the day someone put a sword in his gut and make sure he didn’t get up again.

The highwayman spat a tooth to the side, Soldier cracking his neck in the meantime. “Come quietly, or I’ll give my boss your head,” he then proposed, sitting on his heels before the disgruntled man. “Your choice. Make it quick.”

“To Below with you!” the highwayman howled, making a mad grab for Soldier’s visor. Soldier snarled at the sudden movement, releasing his grip on his sword in order to wrestle effectively for control of the situation. He took one, two, three punches to the gut before flipping them, slamming his elbow into the highwayman’s head.

He was gaining the upper hand quickly, finally atop the thug, before the other pulled a knife from his belt and slashed Soldier’s collarbone. The older man cried out, giving the highwayman just enough time to kick Soldier off. In no time, Soldier felt the telltale pain of the dagger ripping into his shoulder and severing every tendon in its path. Soldier choked and blacked out.

“C’mon, get up! I want to knock you on your ass again!”

The pain suddenly disappeared. Soldier froze, because he recognized that voice far too well. Opening his eyes revealed what he had been dreading.

Over his stood a tall man with a smug smirk on his lips, his ebony skin slick with sweat and his solid chest heaving for breath. The man laughed, eyes sparkling happily before he extended a hand to Soldier. “Here, I’ll help you up, old man.”

“I’m not that old!” Soldier immediately rebuked, grasping the man’s hand. He stood quick enough, much quicker than his old bones should have. Frowning, he took one look down at himself, more specifically his hands, to find he had indeed seemed to have lost thirty years of age all of the sudden. “Seriously, I’m not.”

The man laughed again, but all Soldier could see was a blinding star in front of him. “Oh, I know, Your Majesty,” he told Soldier, hooking an arm around his neck with a smoldering look. “Believe me, I know better than anybody else.”

Soldier’s face contorted in mock disgust, laughing as he shoved the man off. “Gavriel, I thought you weren’t supposed to flirt with me while you were on duty. Imagine what people would think if they heard a knight making passes at the new king? They might start thinking you want a grab at power.”

Gavriel chuckled, stepping away and putting his arms up in defeat. “Right, then you’d better stop staring at me so sensually-”

“- _ look at me when I’m talking to you! _ ”

Soldier flinched, and Gavriel suddenly twisted into the shape of a wraith. No, it wasn’t Gavriel; it was whatever demon had come to claim his life and do it with Gavriel’s voice.

“Do you see what I’ve become? Do you see what you drove me to?!”

“You’re dead,” Soldier answered without missing a beat. “I killed you myself.”

“That’s right,” the wraith snarled angrily, stalking forward in a cloak of smoke. “You took everything from me, you always have. You killed me to  _ silence me _ and save yourself.”

“You had gone rogue! You threatened to destroy Asavalla’s peace!”

“I wanted to save Asavalla from you and your disgusting lies, coward! The kingdom needed to know who was truly ruling it! All you wanted was to save  _ face, _ no matter the cost.”

“Liar! All you wanted was the throne, my children, everything I  _ have! _ Nothing was ever enough for you! I had to execute you because I feared for my kingdom and my family’s safety!”

“But wasn’t I your family?! Didn’t you always swear I was your other half?!”

“You were- You  _ are _ -”

“I was nothing more than a pawn you used to get the throne!”

Soldier winced, feeling the wraithe’s words slice deep into his core. He knew what the corpse meant, and he could not rebuke. “I never meant to, Higher Above,  _ I never meant to _ -”

 

***

 

It scared Soldier, sometimes, how much he still felt in the ‘afterlife’ he was living.

As a young man, he always had thought he’d go kicking and screaming when he met his Maker. He thought he’d die in battle as a wizened man, his worthy children taking over Asavalla and furthering it as a kingdom.

Where had he gone wrong?

In the depths of his mind, a memory returned to him: the turning point of his life, where his love had left him.

Thousands of miles away, the Reaper King recalled it as well.

 

***

 

_ “What?!” _

Only the likes of Lord Gavriel Rezevs could yell so abhorrently in the face of the Ruler Paramount and retain his life afterward.

“Why didn’t you look for her?!” the knight pressed on, his respectful salute from when his king had entered dropping instantly. As they stood alone in Jack’s sitting room, Gavriel’s words bounced off the walls of the lavish surroundings as the Ruler Paramount of Asavalla took a heavy seat in an armchair. “She could still be alive for all we know!”

“We were ambushed, Gavriel,” Jack rebuked finally, rubbing his eyes with evident exhaustion. “Ana told us to escape while she held them off, and I couldn’t stop her before she disappeared. There was nothing I could have done, and the rest of the Guard had me miles away from her by the time the sun rose enough to look for her.”

“Why would you listen to her in the first place?!” Gavriel angrily questioned, eyes livid. “What kind of a damned coward turns tail and abandons those most loyal to him?! That isn’t the Jack I know!”

“I was that Jack twenty years ago!” the king now shouted, standing again and giving his Cavalry General a dark look. “Yes, it was cowardice to leave Ana, but what would you have done in my place, being the man you are now?!”

“I would have fought beside her!” Gavriel shouted in return, gritting his teeth.

“And if you had died?! What about all those who care about you? Lucio, Lena, your own son! How would they feel? What kind of a life would you be leaving them to live?!” A beat, and Jack’s voice dropped deathly quiet. “Me? What do you think  _ I _ would do, Gavriel?”

“I-” but Gavriel stopped once he realized what Jack had said. His hand squeezed into a fist, and he became acutely aware of Lena’s ring.

With a pained expression, the king glanced away from the other man’s eyes. “Can you see what was going through my head now? My children are still young; Higher Above, Hana is only  _ four _ . I’m the only thing they have in this world, their only root to this life.” A morbid chuckle. “And what kind of a father would I be to drop the biggest responsibility in the realm on the shoulders of a twenty-three year old? That would break Hanzo, no matter how strong he claims to be.

“You’re right, Gavriel; Prince Jack Morell wouldn’t have hesitated to fight to the death at Ana’s side. But Ruler Paramount Jack Morell has an entire country to protect and a family to raise.”

A silence fell between them, and all Gavriel could think to do was gape at his monarch’s words. All that talk of responsibility and what Jack would have left behind, but Gavriel knew better. He knew  _ damn well  _ better.

“You  _ selfish, fucking bastard.” _

Jack’s gaze instantly snapped back to Gavriel, a look of astonishment flooding his features. “What-”

“Ana was a mother too, in case you forgot,” Gavriel growled dangerously, glare boring deep into his king. “A  _ blood  _ mother. How do you expect to tell Reinhardt? Or Fareeha? She’s only  _ seventeen _ and you’ve rendered her an orphan, Jack. That’s on  _ you. _ And your kids? You aren’t their only link, you arrogant moron. You’ve hardly fucking raised  _ any _ of them! Hana probably doesn’t even remember your face! Higher, that would definitely explain why  _ only _ Angela can put her to sleep nowadays! Lucio and Lena?  _ I _ raised them, and you damn well know it. They have better memories with me than they’ve ever had from you! Lena’s fondest memory of you was something that happened  _ two years ago, _ when it was  _ me _ who suggested you should take them out! And Genji and Hanzo were already grown after you found them, and their blood family was killed in the war! You naming them your sons after the Cataclysm was just a strategic move for when you took the throne to keep the Eastern Boureals at bay!”

_ “How fucking dare you!” _ Jack roared, the tension Gavriel had built now cracking like a dam when the Ruler Paramount snatched his tunic. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m in a position where I can’t be father of the year all the time!”

“The least you could do is  _ try! _ I mean, come on, can you even give me all the dates of your kids’ birthdays?  _ Well?” _

“What kind of relevance does that have-”

“ _ Everything, _ Jack!” Gavriel spat venomously, shoving his king’s arm unceremoniously away. “Come on, I want to hear if you even have an inkling of who your so-called children  _ are!” _

Not to Gavriel’s surprise, Jack’s clamped his jaw and spoke not a word, either out of spite or because he knew as well as the knight that he could not name the dates. Gavriel breathed a humorless laugh in response. “My point exactly. So don’t spout that fatherly shit as an excuse for Ana’s life. You don’t know a  _ damn thing _ about what it means to be a parent.”

“Oh, and you do?” Jack now retaliated, eyes literally blazing with red as he subconsciously channeled his magik. “As far as I’ve seen, all Jesse’s done with his life is become a thief and street fighter, and he’s only a year younger than Hanzo, for Higher’s sake! It’s because he’s  _ your  _ son that soldiers haven’t incarcerated him permanently yet!”

“At least I took an interest in the kid at all!” the knight shot back. “Unlike you, I go  _ out of my fucking way _ to make sure he’s happy with his life in these desolate walls you call a castle!”

They continued on like that for a while, hurling insults like daggers and grappling at each other’s throats with murderous intent, both figuratively and literally. The guards stationed outside of Jack’s room finally intervened when Gavriel induced a howl of pain from the Ruler Paramount. More shouting commenced as the men were separated, straining against the others holding them apart.

When had Gavriel begun to despise Jaxim Morell? There had been a time when he would have thrown himself into the thick of battle, just as Ana had, if Jack could see another sunrise as a result. The two had grown into men alongside each other, first in the streets as children and brothers, then on the battlefield  as prince and protector, and finally in the castle as Ruler Paramount and Cavalry General. Gavriel knew each of Jack’s secrets, even the deepest ones that could have brought down the entirety of Asavalla overnight. They had sparred countless times, laughed together even more, and the knight had shared his king’s bed more than once. They had never been strangers, so why did Gavriel only feel sick to his stomach at the sight of a man he had once seen as more than a king, a brother, a lover? They were  _ more _ than that; or, at least, they  _ had  _ been in the past.

So when did that change?

Nine years ago, Jack and Gavriel had been passing through a deep south town in the Western Highlands, Ana leading the Royal Guard alongside them to protect Jack and his only sons at the time, fourteen year old heir apparent Hanzo and eleven year old bright-eyed prince Genji. They had been on a rehabilitation mission for the last few weeks, Moira in command of the Obsidian City while the Ruler Paramount assessed the Western Highlands for redevelopment processes.

The Great Cataclysm had only ended six years prior, still vividly fresh in Gavriel’s mind. Finding not one, but  _ two _ , abandoned children in the streets of that town had triggered some deep set feeling of protectiveness when he saw abandonment and blood, especially splashed across two infants with nothing but each other.

When the knight had spotted them in the alley, peasants ignoring the girl’s wails and the unconscious boy beside her, he had immediately leapt from his horse and shoved the incompetent people aside to reach them. The boy was bleeding from paper thin slices across his back and hands, the crimson dying the girl’s shaking form where she held him as if she knew what was happening to him, even with hardly twenty months to her form.

Though it had been Gavriel who pulled them from that alley and screamed to his group to return to the castle to find a healer, it had been Jack who gave those infants names and brought them into his family. Even though it was then Gavriel who raised those two and loved them as his own, then called Lena and Lucio, it was Jack who had the audacity to call himself their father and withhold their love.

Even though Gavriel had always been there first, it was always Jack who took the reward. A military recruit instead of a prince, a general instead of a king, a caretaker instead of a father. Gavriel always received second-best, even if he was always in front of Jack. The Ruler Paramount only consumed more and more, but always took what he had for granted, and it fell to the knight to appreciate what he  _ could _ have had.

Gavriel was finally dragged from Jack’s quarters, but shoved the guards he was most likely in command of away from him, and even though the mere thought of the man in the other room was sickening, Gavriel told the guards, “Watch the king and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

He had no doubt Jack was saying the same thing, and Gavriel only felt more disgusted.

 

***

 

“Well, if it ain’t the dead king.”

Soldier snapped fully into consciousness upon hearing that, and his hand shot out to grab whoever had spoken.

Unfortunately, age and pain caught up with him, and he yelped at the stinging of his shoulder, stilling his movements. Above him, a tall, cloaked figure smoked a pipe with a smirk over his features. “Need a hand?” the stranger asked, reaching out his free arm.

Soldier merely growled and dragged himself to his feet, feeling every painful movement in the process. “Fuck off, kid.”

The stranger snorted, Soldier now level with him. “Since when did ya get such a filthy mouth, sir?”

Soldier gripped his shoulder tightly, hunching over. “Do y’know me or something?” he muttered gruffly. His mood was growing more sour by the minute: what had happened to his bounty, and where in the Higher’s name was Ghost?

“Oh, I do, sire,” the stranger said, taking the pipe from his mouth and holding something out. Soldier’s visor. “And I think you’ve been dead long enough.”


End file.
